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Updated: June 15, 2025
One by one we lowered ourselves into the pit of our arboreal home and drifted into delicious languorous reveries, not of William Henry Thomas. We had other things to think about. A few of our native companions. Filbertine diet. Physiological observations. We make a tour of the island. A call on the ladies. Baahaabaa gives a feast. The embarrassments of hospitality. An alcoholic escape.
The chief's name was Baahaabaa, meaning in Filbertese "Durable Drinker." In every case reference in names was to simple, natural beauties. How much more interesting than our own meaningless nomenclature. We soon found that these simple folk had evolved an admirable standard day in which there was no labor whatever, no cooking, even.
"Listen to that," he said to me one night as we were strolling back from a friendly game of Kahooti with Baahaabaa and some of our friends. I listened. It was the most unearthly and at the same time the most beautiful bird-song I have ever heard. "What is it?" I asked, as the cry resounded again, a piercing screech of pain ending in a long yowl of joy.
It was a triple wedding, the first and probably the last in the Filbert Islands, and one of the most charming affairs I have ever seen. We left the selection of our brides to Baahaabaa and, believe me, he showed himself a master-picker. The ceremony took place on the beach at high midnight, the fashionable island hour. How happy we all were!
It was next to impossible to make inquiries, but Swank, the irrepressible, resolved to try and plied Baahaabaa with questions in French, English, German and beche-de-mer, which only resulted in loud laughter on the part of our host. Swank next tried pantomime, using the French gesture for beauty, a circular motion of the hands about his face accompanied by sickening smiles.
But it was plain to see whom the shouting was for. Then Baahaabaa made the awards and the prizes were identical two royal rigolos of mother-of-pearl, elaborately trimmed with corals and pendants of limpid aquamarine. What tact, what grace and charm in these identical rewards! I am fortunate in being able to reproduce both masterpieces, so that my readers may form their own decision.
I heard Swank gasp and Whinney's face was white and drawn, his favorite expression when deeply moved. She stood close to her husband, half-twined about him with the grace and strength of an eva-eva vine while her kindling eyes burned questioningly, her lithe body tense and protective. "He is to be christened," said Baahaabaa, with a magnificent gesture toward William Henry Thomas.
Childlike, they will grieve deeply, for a day maybe; then another sun will rise, Baahaabaa will give another picnic " he sighed deeply. "The tragedy of it is that their memories should be so short and ours so long," I commented. "Yes," agreed Swank, "but I suppose we ought to be thankful. They were a wonderful people, it was a wonderful experience.
Following an interminable period of eating and drinking came a long speech by Baahaabaa which, like most after-dinner speeches, meant nothing to me. Captain Triplett replied. The gist of Triplett's remarks, memorized from the "Argus," were taken from the 1916 report of the New Bedford Board of Trade.
The peak was reserved for William Henry Thomas, Maka and her four attendants who bore the utensils and long ropes of eva-eva "to tie him with," whispered Baahaabaa. This is without question the most extraordinary picture which has ever been taken of any natural history subject.
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